


Love Drunk

by mishaschmidt



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, I'm Sorry, M/M, a few french words, happy jean, i have accepted the fact that all i write is porn, who doesn't like a happy jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7999651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishaschmidt/pseuds/mishaschmidt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 2am, Jeremy's burning pancakes, and all Jean could do is tell him how much he loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> JereJean has taken ahold of me, and I just can't. I wrote this in less than half an hour (jk, it was more like 2 hours), I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I'm very sleep-deprived, but this needed to be done. (cri)

If Jean Moreau had to put a name to Jeremy Knox, it would be _asshole._

At least, that would be the name he would’ve used a year ago, after Jean, looking nowhere near as ripped apart as he’d felt, had joined the Trojans, and Jeremy had been a bouncing ball of happiness, bounding off the walls and shining brighter than the sun.

No, if Jean had to put a name to Jeremy Knox right _now_ , a year after, he wouldn’t be able to. He’d have to choose somewhere between _adorable_ ,  _beautiful_  and _annoying_ , but nothing close to _lover boy_ , which was the name Jeremy insists on calling Jean every time they’re not around the rest of Trojans.

Jean doesn’t know exactly when it happened- him and Jeremy that is. It wasn’t like with Riko- with Riko everything was blatant- he never made you forget what he did. He used constant reminders. Memories of Riko were sharp- painful to touch, painful to hold buried in his heart.

But Jeremy. Jeremy was soft, he was fluid- Jean’s memories of Jeremy were bundled together in glances and happy moments- not at first, but eventually- everything got so blurred together, he doesn’t know exactly when he stopped being defensive (not in Exy, just in real life), and started being open.

He doesn’t know when he fell for Jeremy. That’s what he’s trying to remember, staring at his bedroom ceiling, counting the tiles. There’s one with a crack, closer to the window. There are twenty straight across from wall to wall. Thirteen tiles going the other way. When did he fall for Jeremy?

His mind is a mess of… of _happiness_ , of good thoughts. It almost, _almost_ feels like betrayal, to a dead Riko. A glance at his phone says it’s two am.

It’s two in the morning, and Jeremy hasn’t come back to bed yet.

Jean sighs, deciding to look for his hyperactive boyfriend, rolling out of bed, padding into the kitchen, where Jeremy is humming something- Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen (Jean can only tell because it was the first thing Jeremy made him listen to when he joined the Trojans, he was appalled that Jean had no sense of music whatsoever. Also, Jeremy had reached the part of the song where everyone was yelling _Galileo!_ for no reason).

He’s standing by the stove, head bobbing in time with his offbeat singing, cooking something in a pot.

“Jeremy,” Jean’s voice is deep, tired, thick with a French accent. Riko had tried to beat it out of him- he didn’t do a good job. It came back within a few months of joining the Trojans, Jean had gotten relaxed, comfortable, and his accent slowly came back. “What are you doing?”

Jeremy turns, and even at two in the morning, there’s a bright smile across his face. He’s wearing pyjamas, and soft fluffy slippers that Jean secretly loves to wear because they’re so warm, and he’s wearing an apron that says _Kiss the Cook!._

“Hey, lover boy. I’m cooking,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I got hungry. I’m making pancakes. Want some?”

“I want you to come back to bed, _mon chou_ ,” Jean murmurs, and Jeremy glares at him.

“I’m not a cabbage!” he retorts, and Jean laughs, walking up to Jeremy and wrapping his hands around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Fine. Can you stop making-“ he looks in the pan, and twists his face. “-pancakes at two am?”

Jeremy sighs. “But I’m hungry,” he pouts, and Jean yawns, his brain shutting down. 

“Mais tu me manques,” the French comes out just like it always does when he isn’t thinking, and his face flushes red because he knows Jeremy understands. _But I miss you_.

Jeremy sighs, turning and kissing Jean, his hands sliding over the cropped hair and deepening the kiss. And Jean remembers when he fell for Jeremy.

It’s not an exact moment, per say. It’s a series of moments, that led up to the grand finale aka their first kiss. Jeremy’s soft encouragements, the way he’d never treat Jean like Riko did, the way he’d kept Jean to the top of his priority list, putting Jean’s needs before his own.

“Fuck,” Jean murmurs, resting their foreheads together. “Je t’aime tellement putain beaucoup.” The words come out breathless, like it’s an amazing revelation. And it’s true- Jean did love Jeremy so fucking much that it was a physical pain in his chest.

“Not more than I do, lover boy,” Jeremy laughs. “It’s impossible. Every time I see you, my heart skips a few beats- there are butterflies in my stomach every time I kiss you- god, Jean, have you ever heard your French accent, I could probably have an orgasm to you speaking French-“

Jean snorts, pulling back. “Your pancakes are burning, Jer.”

Jeremy’s eyes widen, flailing as he tries to salvage his pancakes. But it’s too late, so he just sighs dramatically and dumps everything in the sink, declaring that a problem for the morning before yanking off his _Kiss the Cook!_ apron.

Jean rolls his eyes, pulling Jeremy into the bedroom. There are two beds in the room, thankfully, so they’d scooted the beds together to make a king-sized bed, which was big enough for the both of them.

Jeremy pushes Jean onto the bed, folding his body along his. On the field they were just two Exy players, captain and backliner, and in the bedroom, they were Jeremy and Jean- two guys who loved each other so much they would die for each other.

Jean cards his hands through Jeremy’s brown hair, rubbing his thumbs along the edges of the smile that was constantly playing on his lips.

“Thank you,” he says, softly, and Jeremy smiles, and Jean wants him so he pulls him down for a kiss. He was tired before- they’d had a long, tiring Exy practice that day, but now, here, with Jeremy, he had all the energy in the world. He’d never sleep again if it meant that he was with Jeremy.

It’s a hard kiss and Jeremy moves his legs so his thighs are bracketing Jean’s body and basically straddling him. Jeremy rocks down, and Jean’s hands go down to grip Jeremy’s hips, as he could feel the excitement thrumming through his bones. Jean pushes the back of Jeremy’s pyjama pants down slightly, grasping the supple flesh of his ass, and Jeremy moans, the sound tearing a warpath under Jean’s skin.

Jeremy’s rocking is more desperate now, his kisses are wilder, his fingers are gripping Jean tightly, and with a soft, pleading voice, he begs Jean- _faire l'amour pour moi._

 _Make love to me_ , is Jeremy’s quiet, eager plea, and Jean’s hands are trembling because the first time Jean and Jeremy had sex, those words were the ones out of Jean’s mouth- it had been a weak moment, lust tearing down his walls for the first time, ever- and Jeremy hadn’t understood, but he’d forged forward as if it wasn’t both their first times doing anything sexual.

Now, months later, and after a few awkward times between both of them, and after a number of mishaps neither of them want to mention, here they were. They’d almost perfected this dance together, and Jeremy was telling Jean to make love to him.

Jean wants to… to do something, but he’s frozen, lost in the hazel of Jeremy’s eyes, and the pinkness of his soft plump lips, and his mouth are forming the words- “I love you,” before he even has the chance to think them.

Jeremy’s face lights up- Jean is sometimes convinced that at one point Jeremy had been abducted by aliens and forced to swallow a couple suns before they brought him back- and he grabs Jean’s face and he murmurs “I love you,” over and over and over until Jean kisses him to shut him up.

Jeremy laughs into the kiss but the sound immediately turns into a whine as Jean presses a finger against Jeremy’s hole, circling and pressing, but never entering.

“Stop teasing,” Jeremy mutters. “It’s two am, and I didn’t get my pancakes and-“

Jean’s ignoring him, and somewhere in Jeremy’s rant, Jean produced a bottle of lube from under the pillow and is drizzling it in his ass and he’s rubbing it all around. He presses a finger inside and Jeremy is gasping, burying his head in Jean’s neck, and Jean places kisses all along his ears and the back of his neck.

One finger, two fingers, curl, press. Jean knows Jeremy’s body like a map, he loves following it every time if it gets Jeremy like this, whining and moaning as Jean toys with his prostate. Jeremy is hard and leaking in his pants, and Jean decides that it’s enough- he’s so turned on, he wants to be inside Jeremy now.

So he pushes his own pants down, his hard cock springing out, and resting against his bare abdomen- Jeremy had pushed his shirt up at some point, to rub his abs and tweak his nipples.

Jeremy swears softly at the sight of it, as he always does, and the soft curse from this angel boy’s lips always ruins Jean in a good way. He wants to hear more.

Jeremy grasps Jean’s member, and Jean curses in some language, maybe English, maybe French, maybe Japanese- who fucking cares, because Jeremy is sinking down on his cock, and it’s beautiful to look at.

His back is arched and his head is thrown back, and he’s so beautiful. “Fuck,” he gasps, as he sinks all the way down to the hilt. The curse sends a thrill through Jean’s spine. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby.”

Jean rubs Jeremy’s hips, before holding them in place, and he starts to fuck up into him with loud thrusts. He bends his knees, heels digging into the bed, and Jeremy is holding the headboard, his moans echoing around the bedroom.

“Jean,” he whimpers, before bending and kissing him, cradling Jean’s head as Jean fucks him roughly, balls slapping against his ass. “Jean, god, fuck, right _there_ ,” he pleads, and Jean’s starting to feel a twinge of pain in his lower spine, but he can deal with it.

Jeremy is flushed, his breathing heavy, and his breath is short-circuiting with every thrust and he leans back, gasping out a “stop, wait, stop, I can’t-“ Jean holds back his smile- it’s not the first time it’s happened- and his thrusts slow, and Jeremy leans back until he’s sitting fully in Jean’s lap.

“Fuck,” he pulls off his jersey, running a hand over himself. He has goosebumps littered all over his skin. “Fuck, sorry, I couldn’t breathe, it was so intense- fuck,” Jeremy is breathless, and Jean is pretty much as well, and Jeremy regains his breath, pushing his pants down slightly to free his cock, before situating himself in Jean’s lap, and starts to move.

Jean’s rendered speechless, as Jeremy’s hips start to rotate before he stops and laughs- “we should have music”. Jean rolls his eyes, and Jeremy moves again, his eyes becoming lidded, hands braced against my chest and Jean is so fucking turned on.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Jean murmurs, gripping his hips as he moves, and a flush spreads across Jeremy's chest.

He’s moving faster now, chasing his orgasm, his lean body flexing with the movement, and his hand goes to his cock, wrapping around it. “Je t’aime,” he whispers, and Jean nods, pulling him down for another kiss, before starting to rock his hips upwards into Jeremy again.

This time Jeremy responds, moving his hips down to meet Jean’s, and his eyes are wide blown with lust, and he keeps murmuring “ _you feel so fucking good, baby_ ”, and Jean can only say the same because Jeremy’s tight heat around him is dizzying.

But it’s only when Jean shifts his hips, holds Jeremy still and fucks him roughly, that Jeremy’s body snaps taut and he bites down on the tendon between Jean's neck and shoulder, to muffle his yell as he comes, across Jean’s chest, his body jerking in pleasure. 

His hole tightens around Jean’s cock, and it all becomes too much as he comes, hips stuttering on his last thrust upward, and harsh pants escape his teeth which are biting into his bottom lip.

They stay there, panting and gasping, coming down from their highs, before Jeremy leans up, and Jean knows he’s going to have a hickey on his neck tomorrow, but that’s one bruise he won’t mind displaying proudly.

Jeremy kisses him, kisses his cheek where the number ‘3’ that was there before but now has a small, but fancy _J_.

Jean sighs, partially because it’s over, partially because he is exhausted. He tugs off his jersey, wiping himself down as best as he could, before pulling out of Jeremy, and wiping him down as well, pulling up his pyjama pants.

Jeremy lays down next to him, still breathing heavily, chest glistening, eyes drooping. “You never cease to fuck the life out of me, Jean,” he murmurs, laughing, and Jean rolls his eyes, tossing the jersey to the ground- that could be dealt with in the morning. Jean wraps a hand around Jeremy’s waist, kissing his neck softly.

“Je t’adore, mon Coeur,” ( _I love you, my sweetheart)_ he whispers, and Jeremy smiles, interlocking their fingers together, and they sleep.

(And in the morning, Jeremy gets up early and forces Jean to eat pancakes covered in about two tons of sickly sweet maple syrup (they’re in America, not Canada, wtf Jeremy), but Jean doesn’t say anything, just shoves it down his throat, because let’s face it, he’ll do anything for Jeremy.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! (I was so tired while writing this, at one point I started writing in first person for Jean and it took me a while to realize lmao) Hope you enjoyed, anyway. If there are any French mistakes, blame Google translate and my limited knowledge of the language.


End file.
